Inheritance
by
Chace Boswell
Inheritance © 2012 Chace Boswell
All Rights Reserved
It wouldn’t be long now. The pounding was relentless; a constant in the new world they found themselves living in. Jacob wasn’t sure what they were doing could be considered living, it was more like surviving. He wasn’t sure how much longer they would be amongst the living. He wasn’t sure if survival was in the cards.
Jacob stared at the Ruger he gripped in his hand. It had become almost an extension of his body over the course of the past two months. The weight of the gun felt good in his hand. It was cold and so heavy; almost as heavy as the heart beating in his chest.
In the room next door he could hear the twins crying. What did they have to cry about? They were fed and changed regularly, they were loved. What the fuck did they have to cry about? If someone really wanted to have something to shed tears over a simple glance out the window would do just fine. Seeing what the world had become . . . that shit was worth crying about.
Jacob shifted on the toilet. His hemorrhoids had been killing him lately on top of everything else. When it rains, it pours, he thought as he stood up and wiped himself clean. He looked at the tissue paper before tossing it in the toilet. It was red and bloody, just like the world. Seemed the whole damn world was painted red with blood overnight. Swearing under his breath, Jacob tossed the bloody wad of paper into the bowl and watched it spin like a cyclone of shit and blood before disappearing into the darkness.
Outside, thunder rumbled in the distance, but it was barely audible over the mob beating on his front door. Jacob tried to ignore the barrage and looked at himself in the mirror. It was amazing how fast a person could age in a few weeks. He barely recognized himself in the mirror. His eyes had sunk into his skull and black circles orbited his sockets. A straggly beard crept across his face and ran down his neck. Jacob shook his head as if trying to erase the image staring back at him from the mirror. With a final glance at the man he had become, he left the bathroom, flicking off the light as he stepped into the hall.
At least they still had electricity, the Johnson’s across the street had lost power just days after the dead laid siege to their doorstep. They had lasted a week without power before the mob had busted through their neighbor’s makeshift barricade. Jacob wasn’t sure what had happened to the Johnson’s, but judging by the screams it couldn’t have been good. Anything good seemed to be in short supply in the new world.
After what had happened to the Johnson’s Jacob wasted little time in shoring up his own defenses. He spent hours dragging up ply wood from the basement and nailing it into place over the doors and windows he had already sealed up tighter than Fort Knox. The hammering didn’t do much but draw even more attention to the neighborhood and soon the streets were littered with the dead. They were beating at the reinforced doors and windows before Jacob had driven the final nail. Once he had finished, he went up stairs to be with the twins and Linda. He didn’t go downstairs much anymore, too loud and it was only a reminder of what was to come, no matter how hard he tried to put it off.
Jacob stood in the hall for a moment listening to the twins. Their cries broke his heart. They were only three months old, they didn’t deserve this. His generation was supposed to leave this world better for their children. The twins didn’t deserve to inherit a world that was dead. The twins cries seemed to echo his thoughts and they suddenly seemed to swell in their intensity, washing over him like a wave of despair. Maybe in some way they knew what was coming as well as he did.
Jacob walked into the nursery and immediately had to cover his nose. Linda was beginning to smell. Hard to believe something as simple
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